


Picking Up the Pieces

by LadyLibby



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Cee is smarter than everyone, Domestic Fluff, Ezra needs a reminder that he doesnt need an arm to be a complete and good human, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Prosthetics, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLibby/pseuds/LadyLibby
Summary: “Listen to me, my Streamer Girl,” You’d said, holding back tears as you held her small face in your hands, “Your home will always be here. You always have somewhere to come back to.”She’d nodded at you, eyes wide. Cee was too young to fully understand how drastically her life would change from that moment, but she never forgot your words. That memory – the intertwining of her image of home and her image of you –  guided her back to you ten years later.Along with an odd stranger.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect)/Reader, Ezra (Prospect)/You, Ezra/Reader, Ezra/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	Picking Up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nyvera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyvera/gifts).



“Cee?” You knocked on the wooden frame of her bedroom doorway. 

The teenager stopped scribbling in her notebook and pulled her headphones down, looking up at you. You smiled softly at her. 

“When you get to a breaking point, come set the table please.” 

She nodded, returning to her writing and music. You headed back downstairs to the first floor, pausing to look out the big bay window between the kitchen and the dining room. 

Ares Major – the closest star – set over the vast ocean, light glinting across the aqua water. People always said that humans always found their way to Minerva Prime. Whether they were born on-world or in the far reaches of the galaxy, everyone spent part of their lives on the red sand beaches. Although more and more planets were found, some much bigger and more beautiful for the descendents of long-gone Earth, Minerva Prime was the first and like a parent with their children, it was the favorite. Perhaps that’s what drew you here to the sea breezes and beach communities– that sense of pride and comfort of being loved. 

Growing up, you’d felt neither. No matter how hard you tried, your older brother Damon managed to be the center of everything. When you were kids he was always bigger, stronger, and faster. He outshone you like a star, leaving you destined to stay in his orbit, locked in place by the gravity of his life decisions. So you became smarter, more sensible, responsible. You were Damon’s port in the storm each and every time he spiralled spectacularly out of control. 

You left early from your own med school graduation while Damon languished in a haze of drugs and self-pity the day Cee’s mother packed up and left. You risked your career in its early stages to take care of your toddling niece while Damon waltzed in and out of rehab. When he jumped headfirst into the life of gem mining, you begged him to leave Cee with you. You offered to take another job and mortgage your newly bought cottage by the sea if it meant sparing her from a life of hard labor and danger. But he took her away anyway. 

“Listen to me, my Streamer Girl,” You’d said, holding back tears as you held her small face in your hands, “Your home will always be here. You always have somewhere to come back to.” 

She’d nodded at you, eyes wide. Cee was too young to fully understand how drastically her life would change from that moment, but she never forgot your words. That memory – the intertwining of her image of home and her image of you – guided her back to you ten years later. 

Along with an odd stranger. 

“Shit on a biscuit!” 

A crash from the kitchen along with a colorful string of profanity broke you from your reverie. You stepped away from the window, moving to investigate the commotion in the kitchen. 

Nothing appeared to have exploded or shattered, so that was a good start. The floor was clean and nothing was on fire. Also good signs. 

“Ezra? You okay?” 

“Simply dandy, sweetheart.” The latest addition to your household turned to you with a tight smile, “Just keeping the food on the stove. A task which proves more difficult than I initially anticipated considering the, uh...circumstances.” 

Ezra shrugged, turning back to the stove and stirring the contents of a steaming pot. Your gaze traveled across his broad back to what remained of his right arm. You didn’t offer to help, knowing he would mistake your care for pity. Instead, you would wait for him to ask, although you knew he was too stubborn to go through with it. 

Cee thumped down the stairs, swinging around the bannister at the bottom. You caught a strain of the music blasting through her headphones as she swept past you. She opened a cabinet, grabbing three plates and heading for the table while completely ignoring the two of you. Ezra raised his eyebrows in exaggerated contempt, making you smile as Cee took another trip back and forth. On her third pass, grabbing glasses, Ezra snatched the headphones from her with his good arm, dangling them in the air. 

“Hey!–” 

“I said, ‘Hi, Channel Rat. How was your day?’” He said, moving the headphones just out of her reach. 

“You did not.” She argued.

“Just did.” He flashed a lopsided grin, handing her back her music. 

“You’re the worst.” She smiled. 

After dinner, Cee managed to stay downstairs long enough to clear the table before pulling her headphones back on and scrambling back up the stairs. You shook your head, smiling. 

“She’d better use the money she makes from her writing to take care of us in our old age.” You said, filling a basin for washing dishes. 

Ezra leaned against the counter, head tilted. “Us?” 

Your face warmed slightly at your verbal slip. You busied yourself with coating the sponge in soap, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Well, I know I’ll need cash to spend on yarn for knitting and food for my twenty-seven cats...but if you don’t want in on the mooching, fine by me.” You joked. 

Before Cee had come back to you from the Green, battered and traumatized, you’d been on a one-way road straight to a life of loneliness. Save from a different rotation of patients and cases, your days had been all the same–wake up, go to work, bring work home, eat, and sleep. Then repeat. You loved your job, you loved helping people, but it consumed you until you had nothing left of yourself besides the job. You were Y/N the doctor, not Y/N the friend, the reader, the writer, or the parent. 

Ezra always said you saved his life, and while yes you’d fixed his arm as best you could, sewed his stomach wound, and nursed him back to health, it was really the other way around. Ezra and Cee had brought the light back into your grey days. It shouldn’t have been so easy to be with each other, to reshape your life for them or to picture a future that included your niece and the man who killed your brother. But it was. It was the easiest thing you’d ever done. It was the best thing you’d ever done. 

“To be completely candid, I never really thought about making it past the next job.” Ezra spoke with humor, but you recognized the deep fatigue underneath. “Now I’m thinking I’d like to be a hoarder.” 

“Perfect.” You laughed, setting a plate down in the rack to dry. 

“Speaking of which,” Ezra shuffled, looking down at his feet, “I promise I’ll find work soon. I’ve been out every day but without my, um,...it’s been difficult.” 

“Hey,” He avoided your gaze. “Hey, look at me.” 

His eyes met your own, barely concealing the shame and fear behind the brown irises. 

“You’re trying. That’s all you can do, okay?” You said. “Something will come up. Besides, we’re not broke yet.” 

“‘Yet’ being the operative word.” He scoffed. “I just...if I had my fucking arm…”

You were silent for a moment. The two of you had been dancing around the issue for a long time– you didn’t want to overstep and he was deeply terrified of becoming vulnerable, of opening up and getting hurt. 

“Ezra,” You decided to rip the band-aid off. “The head of Physical Rehabilitation owes me a favor. She could fit you with a prosthetic, if you want.” 

Ezra’s eyes widened. You immediately regretted your words, certain you’d crossed a line. Desperately, you tried to fix the damage. 

“Only if you want. You don’t need one, I’m not saying that you’re any less–it’s just an option…” You trailed off, biting your lip in anticipation. 

“Would this prosthetic be functional? Or just one of those that just hangs there and looks pretty?” 

“Functional.” You said, a bubble of hope expanding in your chest. “You could even add modifications and controls.” 

He leaned back against the counter, gazing out the window at the dark ocean beyond. Ezra considered your words while you finished the dishes. Finally, as you dried your hands on one of the threadbare towels hanging on the oven door, he spoke. 

“Alright.” He said, “I’m game.” 

“Really?” 

Ezra gave you one of his lopsided grins that always made your heart beat just a little faster. “The real question is whether you can handle being overshadowed by your devastatingly cool new cyborg roommate, sweetheart.” 

“I think I’ll be able to manage.” 

He winked. “We’ll see about that, now won’t we?” 

~

“Okay, Ezra, let’s test it out.” Dr. Faiz said, adjusting the straps attaching his new arm to his body. “Lift it above your head.” 

Ezra obeyed. 

“Good, good. Now wiggle your fingers.” 

To his surprise, the metallic fingers moved. Ezra looked up at you, grinning from ear to ear. You smiled back, heart aglow to see him so excited. 

“Hold this, please.” Dr. Faiz held out a cup of water. 

Ezra steadied it with his good hand, unsure of his grip. Eventually he let go and the cup remained safe and unbroken in his hand. 

“You’re doing so well.” You said. 

“Oh, I know.” He smirked at you. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he finished the rest of the tests, staring at you between each one. 

“Alright, Ezra, all the signals from your brain seem to be transmitting just fine. You are all set.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” He shook her hand, “I am immensely grateful for this.” 

“It’s what I do.” Dr. Faiz turned to you with the sort of smile that said she’d be talking to you later. 

You walked with Ezra as far as the clinic’s check-in desk. He kept flexing his fingers and tapping his leg. He radiated the same joy as a child playing with a gift they’d always wanted on Christmas Day. You smiled softly. 

“Alright cyborg, I have to finish my shift.” You said.

He nodded, clearly distracted by thoughts of all the things he’d be able to do again, all the little activities he’d taken for granted before and would never forget their value again. 

“I’ll be home for dinner.” You said, turning to head back. 

His hand on your wrist stopped you. Ezra’s skin was warm, like his eyes as he looked at you. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

You looked away with a shrug. “I just called in a favor.” 

“No, sweetheart, not just this.” He said, tone serious. “Although this is amazing, don’t mistake my meaning, I seem to continually find myself deeper and deeper in your debt. You’ve saved my life, Y/N, more ways than I can count.” 

“It was my pleasure.” You said, squeezing his hand. “Really, it was. There’s no debt to forgive.” 

“I see it now.” He said. 

“What?” 

“Where Cee gets all that kindness from.” Ezra brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s all from you.” 

You stood there, frozen in the intensity of his gaze with nothing at all to say except the thing you knew you shouldn’t, the thing you’d been keeping hidden for weeks, the thing that would change everything. 

Ezra pulled you to his chest, enveloping you in a hug before pulling away. “I’ll see you at home.” 

Dr. Faiz caught up with you as soon as you returned to your rounds. 

“I cannot believe you’ve been keeping that piece of southern comfort hidden from me!” She slapped your arm, “Where did you find him?” 

“He found me.” You said, reading a patient’s chart. 

“Um, not nearly enough information.” She groaned. “Who is he? How did you meet? Are you sleeping with him or does he give everyone bedroom eyes like the ones he was sending your way? What’s going on? Dish. Now.” 

Your relationship with Ezra was complicated...to say the least. At first, it was strained beyond belief. But as you watched him with Cee and he talked his way around all your concerns and suspicions, you got steadily more comfortable. You became friends, spending time talking and laughing together as you watched the tide come in and out. He was forced to trust you. You grew to trust him. 

And yes, over time you’d begun to feel something deeper. How could you not? He was charming beyond belief. He was handsome–very handsome, in fact. He was kind. He listened to you when you spoke, with an earnestness in his gaze you’d never seen in anyone before. He made delicious food even though he only knew how to cook four dishes. He was good at fixing things around the cottage. He made terrible jokes, but somehow you always laughed. He was a better parent to Cee than Damon ever could have been. And therein lay the problem. Taking care of Cee was your first priority, and becoming anything more than a co-parent with Ezra could jeopardize the sanctity of your family unit. You couldn’t do that to Cee. You wouldn’t do that Ezra. 

“He brought Cee back to me. We live together and co-parent.” You said. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” She prodded. 

“Not sleeping together.” 

“Really? Then can I make a pass?” 

You whipped around to face her, eyes wide in horror. She laughed. 

“I’m kidding!” She said, “But Jesus, woman, you need to lock that down or someone else will.” 

~

“How are you feeling about the exam tomorrow?” You asked Cee before taking a bite of your food. 

“Pretty good. I know I’m going to place high, I’m just not sure where yet.” She said. 

Ezra’s fork clattered as it fell against his plate. He grimaced slightly and picked it up, slowly and methodically trying to bring a bite of food to his mouth. 

“You’ve studied so much, I’m sure it’ll all be fine.” You smiled at Cee. “Maybe you’ll decide to become a doctor instead of a writer.”

“Nice try.” Cee rolled her eyes. 

Ezra’s fork fell again, this time bouncing off the table and onto the floor. He clenched his jaw in frustration as he reached down to pick it up. 

“I’ll get a clean one.” You got up and headed toward the kitchen, squeezing his shoulder on the way. 

Ezra grabbed your hand again, pulling you to a stop. He stood up quickly, brow furrowed. 

“I can do it.” He stalked into the kitchen. 

You sat back down, keeping your gaze on your plate. Ezra sat down heavily, flashing a look of guilt in your direction before returning to his food with even more focus. Cee looked between the two of you and sighed. 

“Idiots.” She muttered, but you were both too wrapped up in your thoughts to hear her. 

A few hours later, you knocked on her door frame. She sat up in bed, scribbling in her notebook as usual. 

“All ready for bed?” You asked. “No matter how much you study, nothing helps more on a test than a good night’s sleep.” 

Cee rolled her eyes but closed the notebook anyway. You came further into the room, sitting on the edge of her bed to kiss her forehead. 

“He just wants to impress you, you know.” 

“Hmmm?” You looked at her in confusion.

“Ezra.” She said, “He doesn’t like it when you help because he thinks you’ll think he’s...I don’t know, less of a man or something. He’s weird. And he wants you to like him. Like all the time. It’s getting really annoying, actually.” 

“How do you know all this?” 

“I have eyes.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“And he has no friends. So he talks to me. About you.” 

Your stomach started doing flips. “What else did he say?” 

“Oh my God, you’re just as pathetic as he is. Just  _ talk to each other. _ ” She exclaimed. 

“Alright fine.” You said, smoothing her hair away from her face. “Good night, Streamer Girl.” 

“Good night, Y/N.” 

You turned off the light and shut her door behind you. Mulling over her words as you walked down the hall, you heard rustling from Ezra’s room. 

“Jesus fuck! Fucking–” He groaned. 

“You okay?” You nudged his door open with your foot. 

Ezra spun to face you, dropping his arms to his side. “Hi–sweetheart, yes, I am perfectly alright.” 

“Mmmhmm.” You said. 

Ezra shifted in agitation, looking down at his shirt. 

“I can’t seem to get the buttons.” He gestured with the prosthetic, “The grip isn’t…” 

“You’re just not used to it yet. You’ll get there.” You stepped closer. “Can I help?” 

“I–” Ezra started to protest before taking in your warm smile. 

He sighed, shoulders drooping in defeat. “Yeah. Please.” 

You closed the distance between the two of you, undoing the buttons on his shirt one at a time until the fabric fell open, revealing the expanse of his torso. He pulled the shirt off and you noticed a large scar on his side. It was curved, like the one on his cheek. Without thinking, you reached out and brushed your fingers against the raised skin. Ezra tensed, breath caught in his throat. 

“My brother and I spent a season threshing on Oltima when I was twenty.” He said, voice low. 

You pulled your hand away from his side, taking both his hands in your own. Ezra stared at you, enraptured. 

“I don’t think any less of you because you lost your arm.” You said. 

A blush crept down his neck. “I–” 

“You are the kindest, most resilient, best man I have ever known. I think the world of you, Ezra.” 

His hands gripped your hips, dragging you closer. Your hands fell to his chest, and you looked up at him, your noses brushing. 

He cupped your cheek with one hand, metal cool against your skin, and cradled the small of your back with the other. Ezra pressed his lips to yours, tipping you backward slightly. He’d meant for it to be a gentle kiss, full of affection and care, but you had other ideas. Your hands ran through his hair, scratching slightly at his scalp as you kissed back fervently. He pulled back after a moment, gasping for breath. 

“I do not deserve you.” Ezra whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

“You do.” You insisted, kissing him again. 

“I don’t. But I will certainly try, sweetheart.” He promised, holding you close enough that you could feel the steady, certain beat of his heart beneath your fingers. 


End file.
